The Dance of Deceit

Luca knew the groom’s youngest brother would be the easiest to target. He had spilled the details easily once he was wasted. He'd heard the raucous bachelor party, taken note of the expensive watches and they were on his radar. All he did was palm a fancy bottle of champagne from one table, and offer it to the bachelor party “on the house." A couple hours later, and a secret tip to the bartender to pour heavy handed, he had everything he needed.

Two days later he was dining at a wedding in a lavish resort in Utah. His dry cleaned tuxedo helped him step into one of the characters he’d curated these past eight years. A wealthy investment banker. A financial consultant. A securities broker. Begrudgingly single after his wife tragically died, leaving him a widower at the young age of thirty-six. No, sadly, he didn’t have any children… yet.

Give a wink and a sad smile to the older ladies at the reception, and they’d be dying to take him home or introduce him to their daughters. He nursed a drink, sipping slowly to keep his wits about him. If he played this right, he would go home at the end of the night with a wealthy heiress, or the unsuspecting daughter of a billionaire. 

He saw a table of grandmother-types, dripping with jewelry that looked like it should have been dropped in the ocean at the end of the movie Titanic. 

Here we go, he said to himself, unable to contain his excitement. He wondered which story he’d go with tonight, but he didn’t overthink it. Flying by the seat of his pants was part of the thrill. He prowled through the crowd, always scanning for better options. He never settled for the rich when he could have the richer. 

The crowd in front of him parted, and he saw a glimpse of the dance floor in one of the many intertwined suites in the resort. He saw bronzed skin glowed in the light of the setting sun. She moved with an angelic grace around the dance floor. Her light blue gown flowed in the desert breeze as she danced with a much younger man. Her face held the gentle lines of a vibrant life lived under an open sun. There was a softness in her movement that spoke of years lived without many worries. 

He found his feet moving toward her, but glanced at the table of wealthy ladies again. A moment of hesitation struck him, a small warning voice in his head. He assessed the dancing woman again, as he moved fluidly with the crowd. Her ring finger was empty, but around her neck was more than a year’s salary for most Americans. 

Stick with what works, a voice inside him scolded.

Luca ignored the voice, and stepped toward the angel in blue to get a closer look. As he entered the dance floor, dress shoes clicking on the slick floor, she spun away from her younger dancing partner. Their eyes met, for the briefest moment. Her mouth was open in a laugh, and it froze him in his step. She tilted her head inquisitively, a small smiling growing on her lips. The crowd converged, and she was gone. 

He plowed forward, inexorable in his mission. The desert resort was laid out in two levels. The bottom floor suites were all centered in a rectangle around a massive pool, which changed color with the setting sun. Each suite was themed differently, and he caught the flow of blue tulle and bare feet moving into the greek themed suite. Servers in togas offered him hors d’oeuvres, bodies covered in gray paint to look like statues. 

He declined a server’s offer for something that smelled strongly of garlic, knowing that he would need to get close to his mark in order to be successful. No one would take home someone with dragon breath. He walked around the whole area, but didn’t see her. He spotted a set of spiral stairs going up to a rooftop lounge and followed his instincts up the twisting steps. 

A majestic Greek garden lay nestled in a rooftop terrace, in the midst of sandstone cliffs that illuminated orange and red. An arid wind blew through lush greenery. Gray people on pedestals were bathed in golden sunset light, creating long shadows on silver tiled paths. They moved gracefully, as if they were made of marble, pressing against the hardening of time. They danced to a slow, gentle rhythm Luca couldn’t hear. 

People mingled in the more open grassy spaces, as he followed a path into the heart of the expanse. He heard the tinkle of a laugh, almost like a bell and he turned to his right. Her tulle dress billowed out from her as she walked lazily through the labyrinth of people. He slowed his pursuit, not wanting to seem too eager. He had hoped for a busier area, to avoid making her feel like he was trying to assault her. He only ever seduced and robbed. His weapon was manipulation, not force. 

She slowed, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a server. He averted his gaze to a nearby statue moving into “the thinking man” pose, pretending to be entranced. A flute of champagne popped into his field of vision. He feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows and glancing at the arm that held it, following it all the way up to her eyes. 

“Thank you, Mrs…?” he said, taking the smallest step toward her as he took the flute, brushing her hand with his. He felt heat travel up his finger and into his arm. It settled in his chest, the air warming between them.

“Miss. But you can call me Eris,” she said. 

“Eris? Interesting, that sounds like…” 

“Heiress, yes, yes. I’ve heard all the jokes, Mr…” she arched an eyebrow, waiting for his reply. 

“Luca. Just Luca,” his voice was smooth, practiced. He started with the truth, his own name. It was easier to build a life made of lies if they were embedded with a little bit of truth.  

“Okay, ‘Just Luca,’” she whispered. “Are you here for the bride or the groom?”

“I’m a friend of the family. Groom’s side. What about you?” He was tempted to say more, but experience taught him that offering too many details too soon would tip people off to his game. The music that lilted through the green garden was slow and methodical, and several couples around them were swaying in tandem. 

“Oh I’ve known the happy couple for some time, actually,” Eris said, confidently, “Our families go way back. Back to when some of these statues might have been crafted, if they were the real deal.” 

Luca glanced around, not understanding her joke, but was drawn back when he felt her stare. He felt his eyes almost get stuck on her radiant beauty. He internally chided himself to get it together and focus. He was about to launch into compliments and questions, to get her talking about herself, when she spoke again.

“Care for a dance, Luca?” She extended a delicate hand, and a server appeared, an empty serving tray at the ready. He tried to dull the smile that wanted to show on his face. The wealthier they were, the more they liked being in charge. He kept his gait steady and his shoulders back, hoping he was exuding a quiet confidence. They took a few steps over toward the swaying couples. 

He twirled her around, moving her body to meet his, giving her hand the briefest touch with his lips. Not quite a kiss, just a touch. If she was going to be forward, he was going to return in kind. He knew the game, and he knew how to play it. 

Every time he stepped, she anticipated his move and matched it. He started to speak, but she placed a finger to his lips. Her deep crimson lips parted, and her head shook slowly. The music swelled around them, and the setting sun made the whole garden vivid with a golden haze. Her hand rested lightly back on his shoulder, fingers grazing his neck. Her eyes were molten gold. He felt distracted by the slight pressure of her finger on his bare skin. 

He felt as if he could abandon his mission, at this moment. Her pull on him was greater than any he had ever experienced, and maybe… just maybe… he could choose a different path. He hadn’t made up a job or location or fake dead wife. He could be honest, for once. The idea intrigued him and terrified him. 

He found his gaze pulled from her lips to her neck. A large oval-shaped blue diamond rested in the center of a necklace that glittered with large, clear diamonds all the way around her neck. He knew the people he would bring the necklace to. A private auction, held in a private room of a nightclub that was a front for black market dealings. Always in cash. He’d get to keep most of that cash.

It was only the briefest of moments he allowed himself to consider, bringing his gaze back up to her face. He knew what he would do. He gave her the full force of his most charming smile, and let the flirtation begin. 

His questions flowed easily, and his answers came even easier. Their conversation flowed from one song to another. At the beginning of a third song, he was prepared to suggest they find a quiet corner to talk more privately, when a server’s voice interjected into his reverie. 

“More wine for the happy couple?” a woman with graying hair and soft green eyes leaned her tray toward them. Eris grabbed two glasses of deep red wine, but Luca took a shocked step back. He was staring into the face of Mrs. Delilah Ackermann. A wealthy widow and socialite in New York City, that he encountered a year ago. He had snuck away from her penthouse apartment in the wee hours of the morning, with enough jewelry to spend the next six months on the beach.

How had she found him here? His breath hitched in his throat. 

“I – uh, thank you. Please excuse me,” he coughed out, turning his face away from the woman he recognized, and gently guiding Eris away. 

“Is everything okay?” Eris inquired, looking down at the wine glasses in her hand. “Do you prefer a white wine or something else?” 

“No, no, that was generous of you–” he turned back, unable to help himself as he looked back for the woman from his past. The server turned her green eyes toward him, but when he looked at her again, it wasn’t Mrs. Ackermann. It was a stranger holding the serving tray. She looked away, smiling at party goers who grabbed fresh drinks and discarded their old ones. 

“There’s an open table,” crooned Eris, pointing to a dark corner near the stairs. She placed a guiding hand on his arm and pressing her body into him. She steered him toward the table. He felt unsteady, like his brain was swimming inside his own head. 

He careened left and stumbled into an elderly man wearing a pristine tuxedo and white dress scarf. 

“Whoa there, son. Keep it steady,” the man drawled with a familiar Texan accent. Charles Davenport had a gleam in his eye as he addressed Luca. Luca’s mouth gaped open as he stared at the oil tycoon in front of him. He’d met the man six years ago, on a luxury cruise liner and pretended to be an art dealer and antiques collector. After more than a month of schmoozing the man, pretending to care that he had just tragically lost his daughter in a freak accident, Luca convinced him to make an upfront investment in a back room art deal.

That deal never existed, of course. Detach, deceive, divert. This was Luca's way. 

Luca couldn’t focus on his surroundings anymore as the Texan strolled past him, his bemused face had changed. He was a stranger once again. Luca took a step back, falling into the chair Eris was holding out for him. She shoved the chair up under the table with surprising strength, and sat in the chair across from him. Their wine glasses sat between them on the small white table. 

“You seem to be having a hard time, Luca,” she said matter-of-factly. She was examining his face, as if she could hear his thoughts, or feel his heart beating out of his chest. Her face wore a pinched expression. 

“I do?” he countered, feeling a drop of sweat bead down his brow, “No, I was just…”

“I know. It’s the same dilemma that all manipulators and con men must face, eventually,” she countered, coolly. 

“Con? No, Eris I just need a moment–”

But he stopped as a sinister smile crept onto her face. 

“Did you know a lot of the old gods specialized in wicked pursuits? They were born for trickery and deceit. You mortals merely play a game that is far older and far more dangerous than you know. I am not a whining widow, in need of saving from a gallant young man.”

“Who are you then?” he sputtered.

“Consider this moment – our brief time together – as a mirror. You can waste your time looking at me, and miss the truth. You can look at yourself and choose to truly see. You think you lie to others, but I tell you, you have deceived yourself most of all. Who I am is less important than what I have to offer you right now,” her voice had taken on a sickly sweet quality.

He tasted bile in his throat. She got up and prowled around the table, resting her hip upon it. She laid her hand on his trembling hands that were clenched on top of the table. He felt glued there by her presence. He tried to force his body to move away, but he was frozen like a statue. A pulsing reverberated in his skull. He tried to speak, but no words would come. 

“I know, I know. Mortals are always so overwhelmed,” she laughed and reached behind her neck, “Just listen though, I promise it’s a good one. I prefer to be direct, but I must play the game. Here is your bargain.” 

The necklace she’d been wearing clunked down onto the table in front of him. He jumped, though he was still unable to leave his seat. His muscles began to tremble with the effort of trying to leave his seat. Nothing worked. She continued, undeterred by his obvious discomfort. 

“Option one: take the necklace. Do whatever you were planning to do with it, but know that you will be cursed from here until the end of your life. Everything you gain, you will lose. Everyone you have ever deceived, will haunt you like ghosts. Every other soul you deceive will add to that number. They will be with you every moment, of every day, until you take your last breath. Their despair will be your daily bread. And, after your last breath, you’ll be mine,” she leaned in to whisper the last few words in his ear.  

“This isn’t real… not real…” he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes closed.

“Take a real hard look, Luca,” she growled, wrenching his head around. He looked back into the flourishing green garden and saw dozens of people standing there. The faces of all the people he’d ever lied to, swindled, seduced, and schemed stood before him. Their eyes were full of angry tears as they screamed. Their gaping maws let loose devastated wails that scraped his brain like a knife. Families torn apart. Trust funds drained. Legacies permanently damaged. 

She whipped his head back around to face her, and her golden eyes seemed tinged with red flames. She gently caressed his head, and wiped away the single tear that rolled down his cheek. The wails behind him died down to a menacing whisper. 

“Option two… I’m sure you want to know what it is, right?” she smiled cheerily, as if they were discussing the lovely weather. 

He nodded, his mouth more parched than the canyon walls looming around him. 

“I’d rather leave you with option one, personally, but sadly, I don’t make the rules, so I must play the game. Here’s your option 2: Walk away. Leave the necklace –this destructive path you're on– behind. Change. Instead of pretending to be different people, live a life worth telling people the truth about. Instead of seeing what you can take, try your hand at giving something to this world that’s worthwhile. Rewarding. Beneficial for others. And at the end of that life, you won’t be mine…”

“Wh– What will happen to me then? If I don’t take the necklace?” he said, his own words echoing in the barren space. The words rushed out of him as her arrangement began to sink in. This was a reality he couldn’t run from. He knew he would have to choose.

 “It will feel like a harder road, I’m sure. Denying ourselves is always harder. But at the end of that life, you won’t be mine. You’ll be your own man,” she smiled saccharine, and took a large gulp of the last of the wine in his glass, and walked away. 

The garden was unnaturally quiet. He looked around and saw the terrace was empty. The sun was gone, and the cool desert breeze cooled the heat in his face. He turned back, rubbing his sweaty palms on his tuxedo pants. 

A shimmering diamond necklace sat on the table in front of him.